


Milestones

by thealphagate_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-21
Updated: 2006-03-21
Packaged: 2019-02-02 04:41:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12719862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thealphagate_archivist/pseuds/thealphagate_archivist
Summary: There are hurts in this life you truly never get over, you just learn to live with them and remember what is good in life.





	Milestones

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the archivists: this story was originally archived at [The Alpha Gate](https://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Alpha_Gate), a Stargate SG-1 archive, which began migration to the AO3 in 2017 when its hosting software, eFiction, was no longer receiving support. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are this creator and it hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Alpha Gate collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/thealphagate).

  
Author's notes: None.  


* * *

Daniel sat cross-legged on his living room floor in front of the box. It was old, battered, tied up with twine, worn at the edges and marked "pictures and stuff". The handwriting was his mother's, of that, he was certain. Placing a hand on the top, Daniel let his palm glide over the surface as if he could gleen from his touch what the box carried. He felt a nervous excitement, and at the same time a melancholy at what might've been and what it might contain.

The box had been delivered to him at home that afternoon. The accompanying letter was from one of the curators of the New York Museum of Art where his parents had died so many years ago. Dr. Celeste Roehrig had told of the staff at the museum clearing out a storage room, checking to see if all the items were appropriately tagged, making ready for a new exhibit coming in from the middle east. Her assistant had found the box buried under layers of dust. When they had opened it, they had found personal effects belonging to Drs. Melbourn and Claire Jackson.

Knowing the history of the exhibit still on display in the Egyptian section of the museum, Dr. Roehrig had been aware of the tragic deaths of the Drs. Jackson and that Daniel was their son. Doing some investigating of her own, she had located Dr. Daniel Jackson and had sent him the box, hoping he would want it.

As he now stared at the container, a sense of nervousness washed over him. He didn't know what he hoped to find but he knew he was afraid. Not afraid of the contents, but afraid of the feelings that were already surfacing. It crossed his mind to take the box and place it up on the top shelf of his closet, to be opened at a later time. But he knew it would weigh heavy on his mind until he saw what was inside.

Hands shaking, Daniel cut the twine and prepared to face his past...again. Opening the box slowly, He felt as if he were a child again, opening a Cracker Jacks box looking for a prize. What would he find? What had his parents stored away in this box that had stayed hidden for so may years? As he peered inside he could feel a lump in his throat and a prickle of tears starting to form as the ache of his loss became real again. And he felt lonely and alone.

* * *

Jack knocked on the door, worried about Daniel. He was supposed to have met him at their favorite Chinese restaurant for an early dinner, with them returning to his loft to watch the hockey game.

He had waited thirty minutes without any appearance by Daniel. And when his teammate hadn't answered his phone, Jack had decided to drive over and see if everything was okay.

Daniel's car had been parked out front, so Jack knew he was home. Standing here now at the door with no answer from his knock, Jack lifted his hand and tried again, hoping nothing was wrong.

When Daniel again didn't answer, Jack became more worried, afraid the archeologist might be ill or injured. Trying the door, and finding it locked, he pulled out his spare key, one Daniel had given him a while back for emergencies. He had used it on occasion to feed fish or to let himself in when collecting the mail, usually when the younger man was in the infirmary.

Now concerned, he opened his friend's door calling out. "Daniel?"

Not getting any response, Jack quietly let himself in looking for any hidden threats. As he made his way into the living room, he saw the archeologist on the floor, holding a small book, a box open in front of him.

He glanced around again, making sure they were alone. Then, "Daniel?"

Still not getting any answer, Jack called to his friend again. "Daniel, is everything all right?"

As Jack approached, he could see tears falling and there was a soft snuffling noise coming from his friend.

Sitting on the sofa, behind and next to the archeologist, Jack touched him on the shoulder and softly called his name. "Daniel? What is it"?

Jack felt the jerk of surprise and saw the younger man quickly wipe his face, trying to remove the evidence of his distress.

"Oh, uh, Jack. I didn't hear you knock." Daniel turned his face away from his CO.

"Obviously, Daniel." Jack paused, then reached again and placed his hand on his friend's neck. " Hey, Danny. What is it? What's wrong?"

"It's nothing, Jack."

* * *

Daniel hadn't heard Jack come in. He had been lost in the past, the memories washing over him as he had taken the book from the box.

The book, 'Christopher Robin's, Now We Are Six' by Milne, had been one of his favorites. He would sit in his mother's lap as she read to him of the adventures of Christopher Robin and his friend, Pooh.

Opening the book, he had been assailed with the memories of his parents and how they had read to him in the evenings, mixing stories of Winnie the Pooh with tales of the Pharaohs in ancient Egypt. He had remembered the fragrance of roses from his mother's perfume, the scent of the Egyptian tobacco his father would press into his pipe, and he remembered the warm softness of the love that surrounded him in those early years. He had absorbed it all.

At the same time, as he stared at the illustrations in the book, he had been overcome by the sense of desolation and loss he had felt those early years, those same feelings that came back to haunt him, at times, as an adult. He missed that feeling of being wrapped in love, protected against anything that may harm him and the feeling of contentment and peace as he closed his eyes at night. The innocence of childhood, at least for him, had been dashed at an early age and he'd never quite escaped it's legacy.

Now here he sat, on the floor of his living room, remembering and yearning for his parents and their love.

* * *

Jack could see the raw emotion on Daniel's face. He wasn't OK, no matter what Daniel wanted him to believe. He watched as his teammate stroked the pages of the book he had in his hands

"Daniel?"

"I'm fine, Jack." He watched his friend wipe his face again, trying to cover and not doing a very good job of it.

"Um, sorry, I must have lost track of the time. Maybe we could have dinner another time." Daniel fumbled with his apology as he began to put the book back into the box.

Jack placed a hand on the younger man's arm, stopping him from his task. "Daniel, what is it? What's in the box? I know you, Danny, and you are anything but fine. I want to help." As Daniel looked at him, the raw edge of pain in his eyes, Jack pleaded. "Please, let me help."

As Jack sat there with his hand on his friend's arm, he saw Daniel's blue eyes become bright as unshed tears began to pool. He saw the hesitation, and then, the surrender.

Sliding down on the floor next to the archeologist, Jack heard a small sob escape. Pulling Daniel into his arms, Jack held him as he cried, giving voice to the anguish that gripped him.

Jack could see the return address on the box as he peered over the archeologist's shoulder. He knew instinctively that one of Daniel's biggest nightmares had come back to haunt him, twisting the knife in his gut a little more.

Jack had tears in his own eyes as he grieved with his friend. He hated that Daniel's past had made a return engagement, but he knew from his own experiences that it would always be a part of Daniel, hovering in the background. 

And that did not mean the younger man had to go through this alone. He would be here for Daniel, with a soft shoulder to lean on and a soft place to fall.

* * *

As Daniel's tears began to slow, Jack could feel the waves of tremors washing over the younger man. Jack sat there with every intent of not letting go until he felt some signal from the archeologist that he was ready.

He knew that whatever was in that box had brought back painful memories for Daniel, memories of his parent's tragic death. He just hoped that there were good memories inside Pandora's box, ones that could surpass those scenes from the museum.

He had listened to Daniel's report after the mission to the Gamekeeper's planet and had also heard what had been left unsaid by the archeologist from his 2IC. Watching his parents be crushed time after time had been hard on his friend and Jack knew from his own experiences, the strength it must've taken for Daniel to rise above the memories and let go again.

As Jack felt the younger man begin to relax in his arms, he cursed the gods that forced his best friend to face his demons once more. Hadn't he been through hell already? Hadn't Daniel suffered sufficiently enough to pacify the gods? Jack felt the urge to strangle something.

Feeling Daniel sigh and start to pull away, Jack gave him one more fierce hug and relaxed his hold.

"Sorry." Jack heard the soft apology.

"Forget it. Hungry? How about I order something for dinner." Not giving Daniel a chance to refuse, Jack pulled out his cell phone and ordered Chinese delivery. He suspected there were a lot more memories in that box.

* * *

Daniel had been reluctant to move out of Jack's arms. His friend had given him a sense of comfort he seldom felt, just by holding him as he had cried. But his embarrassment at his loss of control had finally won out.

Now Jack had ordered some dinner and was for all appearances settling in for the evening. Well, the rest would wait until tomorrow.

Placing the book back in the box, he started to close the flaps. As he did, Daniel felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Daniel, tell me about the book." Looking into Jack's eyes, Daniel could see that he was sincere in his request. He could also see that he was offering to be there as he traveled into his past.

Overwhelmed by his friend's love, Daniel was stunned. Nodding, he picked the book up and began to speak.

* * *

"You know, this is the first book my parents bought for me. Oh, there were other books, but this was the first one that was given to me to keep. There is an inscription in the front."

Jack took the ragged book from Daniel, noting it had been well used in the past. Opening the front cover, Jack read out loud what was there.

"To Daniel, my son. I read this wonderful book as a child and loved the tales of Christopher Robin and Pooh. May you love them and love to read as much as your father and I. Books and reading can help you soar above the clouds and can take you places you've never been. Fly Daniel, fly high. I love you always, Mama."

Daniel could feel the tears in his eyes as his vision began to blur. "I never thought I would see this book again. I thought it was lost." Daniel, voice thick with emotion, took the book and caressed the inscription, seeing in his mind, his mother, as she sat on his bed reading to him when he was a young boy.

"She loved you very much." Jack grabbed for some of the ever present tissues and placed them in Daniel's hand as his tears began to fall.

"Yes." The quiet reply was not lost as Jack reached over and put his arm around his friend's shoulders.

Daniel's mind was replaying memories of his evenings with his parents. Sitting by the fire, at one dig or another, they would play games with him, read to him, teach him songs, or just hold him as he rattled on about his day, running around, getting into all sorts of things. They would talk to him in a different language every day. His Mom and Dad had discovered his innate love of the spoken word and his abilities to pick up the many different tongues that were found at the digs. They had encouraged him from the beginning to learn as much as he could.

Before his parents had died, Daniel could speak fluent English, French and Arabic, some Italian and a smattering of Greek and German. He was able to read Egyptian hieroglyphs and was well on his way to understanding Hieratic and Sumeric script. His parents were proud of his abilities and would tell him he had a natural gift for language and to never let it go. Daniel had a warm feeling as he remembered his parents encouragement and love.

Caressing the cover of the book once more as he closed it, he set it aside and peered inside the container. Pulling out a small square box made of what appeared to be rosewood, Daniel felt some of the tension return as he recognized it.

"What is it, Daniel?" Jack kept his hand on the archeologist's shoulder, hoping to keep him grounded and to offer support.

"Pictures."

* * *

Opening the box, Daniel pulled out a handful of photographs that lay in the bottom. On top was a snapshot of a man, wearing glasses similar to Daniel's, talking to another in front of the Great Pyramid of Egypt. Sitting on the man's shoulders was a small boy, who was holding on tight with his hands around his ride's forehead. The youngster sat, resting his chin on the man's head, looking as if he was watching and listening closely to the conversation.

"My father." Daniel rubbed a thumb across the face of his dad, wishing for all the world that he was here with him. Here, where he could talk archeology with him, where he could tell him of Shau're, where he could feel his love. The loss of his parents was like a cold spot on his heart, one that never seemed to warm.

"He took you around a lot on the digs?" Jack hoped he could remind Daniel of the happy memories and help him to use those to fill his heart, supplanting the pain.

"Yes, I ran around, getting into everything. Mom and Dad let me have my head and it was the freedom I needed. I learned languages, but I learned to love archeology too. Everything about the digs fascinated me. The site crews took me by the hand and showed me how to work a dig at a very young age. I was taught that what was being uncovered was very important and to treat the past with respect. By the time I was five years old, I was kneeling beside my mother, helping her to piece together fragments of pottery.

You would think at five, I wouldn't have any patience for that kind of activity. But I loved it. I seemed to understand that it was meaningful to my parents, and I wanted to please them." Daniel sighed as he stared at the memory in his hand. "In a way, it was a game to me."

Jack watched as his friend lost himself in his past, remembering the good times. He hoped Daniel would see that there was a lot to be grateful for, even if the time he had spent with his parents was much too short. It was a hard lesson to learn, one with which he himself still struggled. Even when he thought he had overcome the pain surrounding Charlie's death, it would sometimes rise up and bite him in the ass when he least expected it. He just hoped he could help Daniel walk this road and allow himself to grieve again.

As Daniel went through the photographs, Jack asked questions, prompting Daniel to talk, prompting him to remember things he most likely hadn't thought about for a while.

Deep down, Daniel knew what Jack was doing and he allowed himself to be guided by his friend. He, too, was intent on remembering the good times, trying to obliterate the scene he had re-lived on the Gamekeeper's planet.

There was a photo of his mother brushing the dust of the past off a raised hieroglyph with him standing there holding her tools for her. There was a photo of both his parents leaning over him at a young age as he was being put to bed for a nap. There was his father, swinging him around by the arms in a circle, the smile on his face as that young boy so telling of his joy. And there was a photo of his mother reading to him from the Pooh book. He was laying in his Dad's arms, and they sat next to his mother as she read. He could see that he was half asleep and that his Dad was peering down at him with a smile on his face.

Daniel sat there overwhelmed by the emotions running through him. He could feel Jack's presence next to him, lending his support. Ready to catch him if he began to crumble again.

Setting the photos aside, He reached into the rosewood box to find a folded piece of paper in the bottom. Taking it out, Daniel wondered what he would find.

Opening the paper he saw his birthdate written across the top. Stunned, he saw it was addressed to him and was written by his father. He had never seen this before. Hadn't known it existed. Tears began to form in his eyes. His hands began to tremble once again and he didn't think he would be able to read it.

Seeing the date on the letter, Jack put his arm around Daniel's shoulders. "Do you want me to read it for you?"

Daniel turned and looked at the man who had become closer then a brother to him. He trusted Jack with his life. Nodding his head, he trusted him with his past.

Taking the letter and clearing his throat a little, Jack began

July 8, 1965

My dearest son,

I sit here next to you and your mother only an hour after you were born, amazed at the Lord's handiwork. Your mother is exhausted and sleeping, as are you. I held your mama as she struggled to give you life and realized what a wonderful gift you are, entrusted to us by God. She named you Daniel, knowing you will have strength and courage.

And we truly feel you are a gift. Your mother and I have wanted a child for a long time and just when we thought it might never happen, here you are. You came into this world kicking and screaming, and you are a joy to behold.

I look at you, with your wrinkled, pink face, sleeping, already sucking on your thumb and am overcome by the sheer joy and wonderment of your presence. I can't wait to hear your first word. Or to see you take your first step. I want to talk to you of pyramids and airplanes. I want to help you learn to ride a bike and teach you to drive a car. I want to walk you to school and help you with your homework. I can't wait for you to have your first crush and to meet your wife to be. I want grandchildren to dote on, all the while, as I remember you as you are now. 

I want great things for you, my son. But, what I want most, is for you to be happy. To live and love and to celebrate life. Whether rich or poor, if you can do those things, I will have done my job as your father.

I love you, Daniel. I have since your mother first told me she was pregnant with you. I am scared, too. This fatherhood thing is a big responsibility. But looking at you now, I know your mother and I will figure it out. We will do our best, and love you always.

As I sit here, watching you sleep, I am overwhelmed by the blessings in my life. Your mother, our life as archeologists, but the biggest blessing by far, is you Daniel. I will love you always, my son. Never forget that.

Your Papa

Jack lowered the letter, tears in his own eyes. Dr. Melbourn Jackson had loved his son with all his heart and the letter, written on the night of Daniel's birth, was a testament to that love. He identified with Daniel's father. His own love for Charlie had been unconditional and, had his son lived to adulthood, he would have celebrated the same things Daniel's father had wished for him. Jack ached, as Daniel did, for his own loss.

He knew though, that this memorabilia needed to be found, needed to be seen by the son of Claire and Melbourn, and Daniel needed to remember the good times. There was a host of memories locked in the box sitting on the floor and they were Daniel's.

"He loved you so very much, Daniel." Jack turned to his best friend and, seeing him openly crying, pulled him into his arms. Rocking the man, Jack listened to his quiet sobs.

After a while, the tears began to lessen and then cease. Jack continued to slowly rock his friend allowing him the comfort he sought there.

"Are you okay?" Jack released the archeologist as he sat up straighter.

"Yeah." Daniel grabbed some more tissues and blew his nose.

Taking the letter, Daniel reread it, taking note of the beautiful script that was his father's handwriting. He had seen it many times before and now it stood out, shouting his love for him over the years. His heart clenched in bittersweet happiness. 

Jack watched as his friend carefully closed the letter and replaced it and the pictures in the rosewood box.

Looking at the man next to him, Daniel realized suddenly that he may have lost his parents but he still had a family. Jack, Sam, Teal'c. They had all laughed with him, cried with him, and celebrated his triumphs. They had even mourned for him when it was believed he had died. And now, his best friend was here, once again, helping him. It was painful picking at old wounds and Jack was not letting him suffer it alone.

In that moment, Daniel realized that this too must be painful for Jack, reminding his friend of his own losses. He had somehow forgotten that in his grief. A deep sense of gratitude and love welled up within him. "Thank's, Jack."

Jack had hoped he could help Daniel to see that letting the memory of the death of his parents supersede the love and the good times from his early life was doing an injustice to them. But Daniel had seemed to have arrived there on his own

"Will you stay?" Jack heard the soft request and knew that Daniel had passed a milestone.

Jack grinned. "Of course. I would love to see and hear more about your parents and how they handled a precocious runt like you. Are there more pictures?" The younger man smiled and nodded. 

Hearing a knock, and realizing it was most likely dinner, Jack headed for the door. Paying for the food, he made his way back into the living room and watched as Daniel started emptying the box of it's contents and placing the items around him on the floor.

They would have dinner and Daniel would go through his parents belongings. It wasn't an easy road to travel, and one that would take time. Having been on his own journey for several years, Jack knew there would be other nights of tears and pain. But, his friend would not be alone on his journey into his past.


End file.
